Random Stories

Under the Stars

Hysham, Montana

I love the outdoors and simple homemade cooking, so you can be certain that I have a knack for picnics. The same goes for my current girlfriend. We both enjoy getting up early in the morning to make a few sandwiches, pack a cooler or maybe a grill and some meats and just go to a nice spot. We did this as Sunday tradition, we wouldn’t miss it for anything even if it was rainy, but how could we have picnics under the rain? Well, it may sound corny as all hell, but we sat in our living room and stared out the window.

We also did small picnics at night when the weather was good and we had nothing to do the next morning. Such was the case a few weeks ago, when we headed for the country in my pick-up truck to find a nice spot to set down our blanket and basket. Yeah, my girlfriend got so excited over our little hobby that she would sometimes carry this big old basket with her on our Sunday trips. It was a basket that she got from her grandmother one day. You’ll see why this old basket is so important in a moment.

The spot we parked on was beautiful, it was right under a big tree and had plenty of shade. What we wanted was to picnic through the night so we spent the day reading a book together, swimming at a little pond and then firing up our small grill at dawn. The night came along with a few clouds, but there was enough light for us to see each other’s faces without having to use our flash lights.

We cuddled under a thick blanket and popped open a bottle of wine, super market wine to be specific, so nothing fancy. We drank from our glasses and tried spotting starts through the tree’s branches until we decided to do something a bit more “appropriate for adults.”

I looked around to try and spot any would be onlookers, but the coast seemed clear so we started undoing our clothes. The second things started to get going, I heard a rustling sound nearby so I shone my flash light in its direction.

A raccoon was looking through the basket for food. I scared him off and went to check the damage. The basket seemed fine, my girlfriend let out a big sigh of relief, after I told her. I always thought it was just a basket until she mentioned her plans for it, “We can use it to go out with our baby!” My reaction came along the lines of “what baby?” She rubbed her belly and gave me the news.

She’s now starting to show a little, and I’ll never forget the first morning I spent as a future father. What started off as a small romantic picnic became one of the most meaningful moments of our lives. Plus, the raccoon was nice enough to leave the cooler with our breakfast untouched, so we didn’t have to go hungry while we drove back home.

Fail ID

Detroit, Michigan

My friends and I decided we would go clubbing to celebrate the fact that one of them got a car. The problem was that we needed an ID to get into clubs. We are all high school students and saying “No, I just look young” wouldn’t cut it. A friend of my brother said he would fix us up with fake ID’s, all we had to do was pay him 25 bucks a piece.

We all fell like suckers for it and did it. He took a few pictures from our Facebook profiles and got to work. The deal was that he would have them ready by Friday, but he called and said we could just meet him at the club that very night and get our ID’s.

We called the girls, drove by to pick them up and headed to the club. We had to walk a few blocks after parking the car, the girls were kind of scared since it was their first time in that part of town. I’ll admit we were a bit nervous ourselves but there were people on the street, it wasn’t like they were all going to mug us or something. We eventually go to the club without a hitch and my brother’s friend was there.

There wasn’t much of a line to begin so he just slapped the ID’s into our hand while he pretended to shake them. The only instructions he gave were “Don’t look at them or it’ll be weird, go in separate groups so they don’t get you all if they catch a fake one.” It was a good advice, we got in line and waited for people to go through. The girls were first, the bouncer didn’t say anything other than “Evening ladies” and let them in, a couple of the guys followed after without getting carded.

My turn came and I walked up to the door as smoothly as I could, apparently it wasn’t enough and the bouncer put his hand up to my chest. I whipped out my ID and gave it to him, he laughed his ass up and gave it back to me. My brother’s friend had tagged along to “back me up, just in case” but he walked up to the bouncer and high fived him saying “Sup Mike?” I tried going after him but the bouncer didn’t let me.

Then I looked at my ID, it said my name was “Stoney McPot” and my date of birth was “4/20/??” The bouncer kept laughing his ass off and told me to stand aside. I called my friends and told them but they weren’t going to leave because of me, so I called my brother to pick me up and he said “No, and you should feel grateful I don’t call mom on your ass. Learn to Photoshop yourself bitch! Who the hell pays for a fake ID anyways?”

My awesome night turned into me standing by the door waiting till closing time, only to listen to how awesome it had all been and how one of the girls made out with the asshole that ruined my ID.

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